#that might account for the sterility

[kedreeva]

Sorry about the color mix up. I appreciate the reply and additional info! I guess bc I know nothing about peafowl (and the fact i dont breed any type of animal), I'm having a hard time understanding how being sterile would be unethical. I do somewhat get the shortened life span. I really would like to understand this, I just sometimes need stuff explained like I'm 5.

Up front, there's no "somewhat get" to a shortened lifespan being caused by a mutation in captive populations. If an animal is capable of living 20+ years (and some live 30+ or even 40+!) and some non-essential mutation is causing them to live 7-9 years, it's flat out absolutely unethical to breed that mutation, full stop, regardless of anything else going on. That's indicative of a MAJOR problem in their genetics. There's NO ethical reason to breed that because humans like how it looks. So, even without the sterility, these birds would 100% be unethical to produce.

The short answer on sterility is this: we don't know WHY they are sterile, but they shouldn't be, and that means something has gone wrong. When something goes wrong with an animal, and it's something genetic that can be passed on, the ONLY responsible and ethical thing for a breeder to do is to stop using that animal for breeding and closely monitor any already-produced offspring for signs of the problem, and likely not breed them, either.

The longer more complicated answer is this: sometimes it's possible to separate the problem from the aesthetic when it comes to morphs, like it was for cameo + blindness, but sometimes it's NOT, like it wasn't for spider + head wobble for ball pythons. In those instances, it's... difficult. Because you're LIKELY going to produce animals that suffer the same problem as their parent(s), in the attempt to separate the problem from the aesthetic, and sometimes that's ALL you're going to produce. As a breeder, it's your absolute responsibility to NOT release the offspring into the general population, where the problem may be replicated without control, and to keep or cull the affected individuals if the problem cannot be separated from the aesthetic, or AT BEST find them guaranteed pet-only homes that will NEVER breed them.

Sometimes the problem IS purely aesthetic or harmless, like it was for pied in peafowl, and sometimes it's not, like it was for vitiligo in peafowl. The problem comes when you ASSUME a mutation is the first, and treat it like the first when it's really the second. This has caused FAR reaching consequences in the peafowl community, and I'm sure in others, where now the autoimmune disease that first bronze had has been passed into genpop by folks who thought they were breeding a harmless new variation of pied. Hybrid animals are often sterile (not in peafowl though, hybrid cristatus-muticus birds are fertile) because of a mismatch in chromosome pairing numbers, and often that's harmless. So, in some cases sterility is not an issue because it's the expected result or is otherwise harmless... but in the case of peafowl, it's NOT an expected result and we don't know if it's caused by something harmless or not.

Some species, like mice and horses and cattle and dogs, genetic testing and DNA mapping done with millions of dollars has proven that while some stuff isn't purely aesthetic, it also doesn't cause harm to the animal in a way that affects quality of life or that can be adapted for in captive care. For example, in chickens, the frizzle gene causes curled feathers in single copy and an absence of feathers in double copy. This gene is considered ethical to produce IF the breeding is done responsibly by putting a single copy bird over a zero copy bird, which produces smooth coats and frizzle coats, but it is unethical to produce double frizzles (called "frazzles") because frazzles cannot thermoregulate, can easily sunburn, and easily suffer skin injury during normal chicken activity.

For peafowl, we have NO genetic testing. We do not have the genome mapped. As far as I know there's a research group working on it (mostly for green peafowl though, in conservation efforts), but that's not remotely finished or available to the public to test anything. We don't know where any of the morph mutations sit, or what is causing them or if they do anything beyond just change the color. Sometimes color mutations are the result of malfunctions in enzymes. For charcoal specifically, we don't know what the mutation does, besides what we can observe on the outside- the birds have half or less the lifespan of normal birds, poor feather quality, and the hens are sterile. Is the sterility harmless like it is in some hybrid animals, or is it actually a major organ failing? Is it the only major organ that fails due to this mutation, or is it just the first sign of their shortened lives? Is it some deficiency in something the birds need to be healthy? Does it hurt the bird? We don't know, but we do know the mutation and the problems (multiple, please do NOT forget that this is one OF MORE THAN ONE problems) can't be separated, and so until we do know why and whether it's harmless or not, the ONLY ethical response to seeing a problem in a major organ's function linked inextricably to a mutation in color is to not propagate that mutation. If someone wanted to fork over the millions it takes to sequence and map genomes and then determine exactly what is going on with peafowl, that would be nice and good, but I don't see that happening. When I win the lottery big, I'll be doing it, but til then we can only follow normal breeding guidelines

Also, to put this into perspective... peafowl mature sexually around 3 years old. They are chicks until the turn of the new year following their hatch. They are yearlings that year, and immature 2yo next year. They aren't actually considered fully grown until 6 years old, and should live another 14+ years. Charcoal birds die a 1-3 years after full maturity. Is it a coincidence that they fail to thrive shortly after full sexual maturity, or is it linked? Again, we don't know. We don't know if the sterility is fine or if it's just a symptom of something worse.

Even without the sterility, though, charcoal has enough issues it would be unethical. If it was JUST sterility, with no other deleterious effects, then maybe it would be different. But it's not.

#peafowl #asks #anon asks #as always please bear in mind that animal breeding is NOT the same as human reproduction ethics #and I ONLY deal in animal ethics #and honestly even if it was just shit feather quality then I would personally consider it bad breeding #I asked the only person I know who still has charcoals what their issues were and lord it is worse than I thought even #she's keeping/breeding only what she can keep herself #and experimenting with feeding regimens in the hopes of correcting a nutritional deficiency #that might account for the sterility #but so far after like 10+ years she's had no luck #so it's not likely #Like there are SO MANY perfectly fine and healthy morphs out there #there's NO reason to keep making this one #it's not essential to the continuance of the species #also to anon: I'm not mad at all this is just how i sound about my special interest #I'm glad you asked questions #I appreciate you seeking info

[eileenthecrow]

i want to say as much as i understand criticisms of modern web design for being sterile and boring it is important to point out that part of that is because theyre designed with modern accessibility practices in mind. like 90s-early 2000s websites often were very hard to read and lacked color contrast/effective negative spacing and like i get that its boring to look at now but the nostalgia factor isnt more important than like. people having their disabilities accommodated im sure theres a middle ground that could and probably should exist and a lot of that has to do with capitalism etc etc but like old web design practices werent like....good lmao

#this is not about the state of advertising and the fact that companies #blast our eyes with the corporate equivalent of malware symptoms #thats a different conversation #anyway i just wanted to say that because #i think people get really caught up in the reactionary thing of like well this is being made boring to make it easier to market or whatever #because modernity is associated with sterility and monochromatic color palettes #which i get #but ur criticisms of capitalism arent valid if they dont also take into account the disabled #which is a topic thats overlooked (intentionally) in a lot of these conversations because its easier to #vilify tech and the modernization of the internet if u arent thinking about the benefits that some people (the disabled) might get from tha #that* lmfao

[dcigar]

In the heart of the bustling city, amidst the clang of construction and the honking of impatient horns, there lived a man named Alex. By day, he was a mild-mannered accountant, crunching numbers in a sterile office. But by night, he became someone entirely different.

It all started innocently enough. One evening, Alex stumbled upon a leather shop tucked away in a dimly lit alley. Curiosity piqued, he ventured inside, drawn by the smell of rich, supple leather and the promise of hidden desires.

As he ran his fingers over the sleek jackets and rugged boots, something stirred within him. It was a feeling he couldn't quite place, a sense of exhilaration mixed with a hint of taboo. And when he slipped on a leather jacket, the world shifted.

Suddenly, Alex felt more alive than ever before. The cool touch of the leather against his skin sent shivers down his spine, and he couldn't help but admire his reflection in the mirror. Gone was the shy accountant; in his place stood a confident, powerful man.

From that moment on, Alex's life took on a new rhythm. He sought out leather wherever he could find it, reveling in the way it made him feel alive and free. He attended leather events and gatherings, immersing himself in the vibrant subculture that welcomed him with open arms.

But along the way, Alex faced challenges too. He grappled with his own insecurities and fears, worried about what others might think of his newfound passion. Yet with each step he took, he found strength in his authenticity, embracing his identity as a gay man who loved to wear leather.

And as he walked through the city streets, head held high and leather-clad, Alex knew one thing for certain: he had discovered a part of himself he never knew existed, and he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

One fateful evening, Alex decided to take his exploration of leather to the next level. He ventured into a renowned gay leather club, drawn by the promise of a community that understood and embraced his desires.

Inside the dimly lit club, the air was thick with anticipation and the scent of leather mingled with the heady aroma of cigars. As Alex made his way through the crowd, he couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over him.

It was there, in the heart of the club, that he discovered his love for cigars. Entranced by the sight of men puffing on their smoldering sticks, he hesitantly accepted an offer to try one for himself.

As the rich, earthy flavor enveloped his senses, Alex felt a rush of pleasure unlike anything he had experienced before. The smoke danced on his tongue, filling him with a sense of warmth and contentment.

From that moment on, cigars became a staple of Alex's leather-clad adventures. He relished the ritual of lighting up, the camaraderie shared with fellow enthusiasts, and the way the smoke added an extra layer of intensity to his experiences.

With each visit to the leather club, Alex discovered more about himself and the vibrant subculture he had become a part of. And as he indulged in his love for leather and cigars, he found a sense of liberation and empowerment that he had never known before.

As Alex continued to immerse himself in the leather community and embrace his newfound passions, he decided to take another bold step: he grew a beard.

At first, it was just a stubble, a hint of rugged masculinity that complemented his leather-clad persona. But as time went on, Alex let his beard grow longer and fuller, until it became a defining feature of his appearance.

With each passing day, the beard became more than just a symbol of his masculinity; it became a symbol of his confidence and self-assurance. Running his fingers through the coarse hair, Alex felt a sense of pride in the person he had become.

As he walked through the city streets, leather jacket hugging his frame, cigar smoke trailing behind him, and beard framing his face, Alex felt like he was truly living life on his own terms. And with each passing day, he discovered new depths to his identity, finding joy and fulfillment in every aspect of his journey.

With his confidence soaring and his sense of self solidifying, Alex delved deeper into his exploration of leather. One day, while browsing through a leather boutique, he stumbled upon a pair of leather chaps.

Intrigued by their rugged appeal and the way they showcased his legs, Alex couldn't resist trying them on. As he fastened the buckles and adjusted the straps, he felt a surge of excitement course through him.

Stepping in front of the mirror, Alex admired his reflection. The leather chaps hugged his thighs snugly, accentuating every curve and contour of his body. He felt powerful, alluring, and completely in command of his desires.

From that moment on, leather chaps became a staple of Alex's wardrobe. Whether he was strutting through the streets or dancing the night away at the leather club, he always felt like the truest version of himself when he wore them.

Embracing his love for leather chaps was just another step in Alex's journey of self-discovery. With each new revelation, he felt more liberated and empowered, unapologetically embracing every aspect of his identity as a gay man who loved to wear leather. And as he continued to explore and celebrate his passions, he knew that the best was yet to come.

More to come…

#cigar #beardedgay #cigarpic #cigardaddy #male skinsuit #mental change #leatherman #gaycigarsmoker #cigarbeard #male transformation #leather #transformation #leather pants #leather chaps #explore #maletransformation #mtf #male body swap #bodysuit #bodyswap #nerd to jock #male shapeshift

[piedinthepiper]

Disease ˖ ⊹

Doctor!Jimin x fem!reader

Summary: You’ve had a sore throat for months now, good thing Doctor Jimin has a cure.

Warnings: dark content, dubcon ish, corruption, smut, mention of bullying, yandere?

Wc: 2.3 k

A/n: wrote a little something based on this request! Reader is innocent in the beginning, but throughout you will discover that she’s not innocent at all, but not in a sexual way… This is a great concept, but this is just so unserious. But I had to! It was right in front of me and I had to!

Another A/n: This is also written based on my firm belief that all doctors were pretentious nerds in high school. Because no one gets grades like that from actually having a life.

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Another disclaimer: I’m not a doctor, everything is off Google! Some technical terms might me wrong, don’t sue me! Also it’s a really stupid story, it’s pure fiction! If any doctor or medical personnel ever does this to you it’s not ok! Ok?

“Y/n y/l/n.”

Your name was heard throughout the waiting room. You smiled at the woman in scrubs, getting up from your seat to follow her. You clutched your bag to your side. Anxiously walking down the hallway.

“Dr. Park will be with you in a minute.”

She smiled as she stopped, holding the door open for you. You walked into the empty doctor’s office. She closed the door behind you, leaving you alone. You sat down in the chair, placing your purse carefully in your lap. You let out a deep breath. Being in a doctor’s office was just scary. You knew it was safe and all that. It was just something about giving a random person information about yourself that made you nervous. The sterile room that so many people had received bad news in. You were dreading the thought of you also receiving such news in that room. The possibility of not knowing if you’re terminally ill or if you just have a flu. Well, that was why you were there in the first place. The door opened, and your face turned in its direction.

“Good morning, ms. y/l/n, right?”

A sweet calming voice erupted from the man. You nodded and stood up to shake his hand. He sat down opposite of you, starting to click and type on his computer. You nervously looked down at your hands, waiting for him to talk again.

“I see you’ve had a sore throat for quite some time now. Is that the reason you’re here today?”

You looked back up at him again. He was leaning forwards on the desk on his elbows. His hands neatly put together.

“Yes, it’s like I’ve had a cold for months now. It just won’t go away.”

He nodded and typed something on his computer.

“Have you noticed any swelling in your lymph nodes?”

He asked still focused on the computer screen. You thought for a second.

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked.”

He nodded at your answer.

“Any peculiar or ugly coughs? Like slime coughs or even blood?”

“There was this one time where there were a little blood.”

He looked back at you, clearly concerned about what you told him.

“How much?”

You shook your head.

“Very little, it was more the taste of blood. Nothing visible.”

He went back to typing.

“And it was only once.”

You added, trying to make the whole situation sound a little better. It wasn’t even that bad, it was probably just because you had been coughing so much that day, your throat was so sore that a little cut appeared. But it was the reason you decided to go to the doctor in the first place.

“Ok, are you ok with me examining you a little?”

He asked calmly, his full attention back to you. You sighed but nodded. He got up from his chair and pointed to the bed looking thing with a long sheet of paper on it. You got up as well and followed him, jumping slightly to get up on it. You wiped your clammy hands on your jeans, trying your best to calm down. He put on white latex gloves and came over to you, positioning himself between your legs. You straightened your back a little.

“Look up for me.”

You did as asked and looked up at the ceiling. His gloved hands immediately went to your neck. Slightly pushing on the sides of it.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and you nodded slightly.

“Your lymph nodes are quite swollen actually. It’s weird that you haven’t noticed.”

He said as he quickly moved to your stomach. Your back quickly straightened even more at the sudden contact.

“Just relax for me, I don’t bite.”

He jokingly said. You let out a small laugh and tried your best to relax. He put pressure on your waist.

“Does this hurt?”

He asked and looked you directly in your eyes while his hands roamed your waist. You shook your head, not trusting your voice. He stopped.

“Do you mind taking your sweater off?”

He asked calmly, looking down at where his hands were seconds ago. You panicked for a second, not knowing what to answer.

“Your sweater is quite thick, it’s purely so I can examine you correctly, ms. y/l/n.”

You nodded and started taking off your sweater.

“Of course.”

You mumbled as you pulled it over your head, leaving you in just a black bra. Goosebumps littered your skin at the sudden contact with the cold air. For a second you saw him looking at you, mouth slightly open. It made you uncomfortable, the look was not a professional one.

“Amazing.”

He said and licked his lip slightly before finding your waist again. You tried your best not to freak out at how close he was now. You felt so much more vulnerable now that you were half naked.

“Does it hurt now?”

He asked and did the same motion he did earlier. You shook your head again.

“Can you turn to the side for me?”

He almost whispered. You turned to the side, placing one leg at the floor for stability. You felt his hands slide up your back, pushing at some spots and asking if they hurt. You suddenly felt the cold touch of a stethoscope on your back.

“Breathe slowly in for me.”

You took a deep breath.

“Keep going, keep going for me, y/n.”

You breathed out once those words escaped his mouth. He didn’t say it like a doctor would. There was something behind it you couldn’t put your finger on.

“Try again.”

He uttered and you did. You managed to hold your breath.

“Good girl.”

He said as you breathed out again, making you cough.

“That cough doesn’t sound very good.”

He said as he stepped back into your view. You positioned yourself fully back on the bed.

“I’ll examine your mouth now, ok? Tell me if anything feels too uncomfortable.”

You nodded.

“Open up.”

You did as he commanded. He put two of his gloved fingers flat on your tongue.

“Wider, please.”

You opened your mouth as far as you could. He pointed a flashlight down your throat. Tears started forming in your eyes as his fingers almost choked you.

“Looks like you got some tonsils down there.”

His fingers slowly slid out of your mouth and you closed it and swallowed whatever spit had occurred during the examination. He started removing his gloves, throwing them in the nearest bin. He came back to you and placed himself close to you again. So close that it would be awkward to reach for your sweater that had fell to the floor.

“They’re not big enough to remove just yet. They might shrink if you do the right things.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to get a little bit of modesty.

“What do you recommend?”

You asked him.

“Take cough syrup and cough drops, drink as much warm beverages as possible.”

You sighed.

“But I’ve been doing that for months now, and it hasn’t helped as far as I’m concerned.”

You said and looked down, finding it hard to maintain eye contact with him that close. He hummed in understanding, stepping slightly away. You took the chance to reach for your sweater again. But his arm stopped you. You sat back up, looking at him confused.

“There is another solution. It’s a bit- well. Unorthodox.”

“What?”

You asked, willing to do whatever he told you. You didn’t want to walk around with a constant sore throat for the rest of your life.

“Do you have a partner?”

He asked. You shook your head, still confused about where he was going with this.

“That’s a shame. You see, recent research has found out that fresh and warm semen can do wonders for a sore throat.”

You swallowed feeling the saliva sting your sore throat. You knew what he was aiming at, you weren’t dumb. Or at least you didn’t think so.

“Really?”

You asked, not convinced that he was actually asking you to blow him.

“Yeah, I’m a doctor, you can trust me.”

You nodded and stepped off the bed, hearing the thin sheet of paper slightly rip. You looked him in the eyes as you sunk down to the floor. Letting your hands drag down his body.

“Woah ok. Didn’t know you were that desperate.”

His hand went to your face as you positioned yourself on you knees.

“I’m just doing this to get better, alright?”

“It’s ok, baby. I’ll help you.”

He was quick to answer, almost eager. You started working on his belt, trying to get it done as quick as possible. Maybe you were dumb, maybe he tricked you to give him a blow job. The thought definitely crossed your mind. But like he said, he was a doctor, he knew this better than you. And after months of trying everything to cure your throat, you were willing to try just one more thing.

You pulled his half hard dick out, giving it a few pumps. It was a good size, even at its half hard stage. You were about to put your lips to it, but his hand reaches your forehead.

“Haven’t you forgotten something?”

He asked with a sly grin. You looked confused at him. He clicked his tongue, hissing slightly.

“Well, I don’t offer this to every patient that comes in with a sore throat. Maybe a thank you, a little begging for my help would work?”

You mentally cursed yourself, but you were too far in to back out now. You let one of your bra straps fall down your shoulder as you looked up at him with doe like eyes. Your hand started jerking him slowly.

“Please, Dr. Park. Please let me suck your cock. You’re the only one that can help my sore throat.”

His eyes changed from slyness to horniness at your words.

“Good girl, you deserve a cure for that throat.”

You kissed his tip.

“Thank you so much, Dr. Park.”

You said before your mouth covered his tip. You started sucking on it watching his face twist in pleasure.

“That’s it.”

He whispered as you swallowed his cock. His head turned to the ceiling, as a moan escaped his lips. You started bobbing your head up and down, not wasting any time and keeping a steady rhythm. His hands reached your hair, grabbing a fistful. He didn’t force you to go deeper, he just held your hair as some sort of stability for himself.

“I always knew you were a little slut. Sucking me dry in my office with other patients waiting outside.”

He started talking dirty once the initial pleasure wave was over. Swearing in between his words.

“I’ve waited for this for so long. Fuck- Ever since I first saw you I’ve wondered what those lips looked like around my cock.”

You choked at his sudden comment, his hand in your hair stopping you from removing yourself of said cock. You started going faster instead, wanting this to stop so you didn’t have to listen to his creepy speech.

“You remember me from high school right?”

You now realised you were very very dumb, as your mind raced through your memories from high school. Park Jimin, the nerdy weirdo in science class. You would always catch him stare at you, but you couldn’t remember ever speaking to him. Well, except for when you and your friends would call him names and break his glasses. He pushed his hips forward, making you choke again.

“Of course you don’t. You were too popular. But- shit. Look at me now.”

You looked up at him with teary eyes. His hand went from your hair to your cheek, and caressed it carefully.

“I made a shit load of money to have you sucking my dick today. Shit- I have the most gorgeous girl from high school blowing me right now. Finally.”

He started moving his hips, you knew he was close.

“Fuck- you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

He moaned as you felt the warmth of his seed fill your mouth. You waited for it all, not wanting to have any of it actually hit your skin. You swallowed, before you got up again. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, giving him a deadly look.

“I remember you, you little freak. You were disgusting back then and you still are to this day.”

You erupted adjusting your bra strap back over your shoulder.

“There you are, that’s the y/n I remember. Always something mean to say.”

He said as he tucked himself back, that sly look creeping back onto his face.

“Who’s the bully now, y/n?”

You snarled at him and turned around to get your sweater from the floor. You were ready to leave and change doctors immediately. But before you could get up again you felt his body crash into yours, pushing you up against that bed thing. He bent you over it, whispering in your ear.

“You were always the meanest. And I loved it. I loved you so much. I practically worshipped you.”

His groin was pushed up against your butt. You felt his bulge growing by the second as he took a deep sniff of your hair.

“Please, let me go. I’m sorry, I’m sorry ok?!”

You practically screamed, now afraid of the boy you never thought would be able to overpower you. But that was in high school. He was a man now.

“I will let you go, y/n. I’m not like you.”

But before he did as promised he got a good grip of your tits. Letting out a satisfied moan.

“Even better than I thought they would feel.”

He whispered before stepping away from you slowly. You immediately got away from him, quickly throwing the sweater back on your body.

“Remember that I had the power today, y/n.”

You rolled your eyes and walked towards the door. You stopped, and didn’t speak before your hand was placed firmly on the handle.

“Whatever you fucking weirdo.”

You said and opened the door, not looking back. You regretted being this fucking dumb. Falling for his trick, thinking that he had good intentions. The worst part was that it didn’t even get any better.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

#bts yandere #yandere!bts #yandere bts #yandere jimin #jimin x you #park jimin fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts jimin #park jimin #yandere park jimin #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #park jimin x y/n #jimin x y/n #jimin x oc #jimin yandere #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #jimin #yandere!jimin #yandere x reader #yandere!jimin x reader #yandere!park jimin #request #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader

[demonslayedher]

Just thinking about how Chachamaru is a male calico, at least according the Taisho Secret right before chapter 195 that calls him manly. It really doesn't surprise me that he's male, because so many references to calicos I've seen in manga, mascots, and temple architecture specify that the featured calico is male.

This is because they are rare, and therefore considered lucky.

The figure that gets thrown around the internet is that supposedly only 1 in every 3000 calicos is male. (I'll bet the people who did the often quoted study at U. of Minn. College of Vet Med would love to tell you how it's more complicated than that.) This has long made male calicos popular not only in Japan, but in other countries as well. The thing is, though, the male calico might not always be so lucky.

To be very brief about why calicos (and some other multicolored cats) are almost always female, this is because, put very simply, one X chromosome gives us the black splotches, and one X chromosome gives us the orange splotches. That might leave you wondering where the white patches come from, and this is the part where I say that genetics is never simple and you should have fun reading about it. The important takeaway here is that in order to show this color pattern, a cat needs two X chromosomes, one from its mother and one from its father.

Typically, a male cat has an X chromosome (from its female mother, who only has two X chromosomes) and a Y chromosome (from its father, who had both an X and a Y), but because the calico coating can only occur with two X chromosomes, this male cat somehow got an X, a Y, and... hmm, another X somewhere.

So not a typical XY male, not a typical XX calico... this sterile XXY male calico has an extra chromosome, and mutations often are not ideal for the health of the animal with the extra chromosome. This particular condition is Klinefelter’s Syndrome, which can lead to a male calico having cognitive and behavior issues, weaker bones, increased risk of diabetes due to higher body fat, and perhaps a shorter lifespan.

Now, none of the fictitious lucky cats I've seen have ever been portrayed as anything less than smart and pleasant, though a lot of the maneki-neko are pretty round. For everything Chachamaru is tasked with, I have to assume he's above-average when it comes to intelligence, reasonably healthy enough to handle long-distance travel, and for a cat, he's extremely, extremely cooperative. For the record, the same Taisho Secret (as well as Yushiro's statement in Chapter 194) makes it clear that for most of canon Chachamaru was a regular cat, for he was not made into a demon until right before the final showdown with Muzan. Even with her hands full making the medicine for Muzan, she still put a lot of effort into changing Chachamaru so that Yushiro wouldn't be lonely. It's ironic that Chachamaru winds up immortal, rather than doomed to a potentially shorter lifespan due to his mark...ings. In the first place, was Tamayo perhaps moved with pity for a sickly kitten and nursed him to the health he's in now?

Or did she always keep her eye out for a male calico, wanting to put some faith in them being good luck?

Also, what sticks out to me in this Taisho Secret is that Chachamaru, not having a language in which he could communicate with Tamayo, had no choice in becoming a demon. Tamayo felt sorry about that. The word bubble over manly little Chachamaru says, with bravado, "Fine by me, if that's what the woman I'm smitten with wishes." If Chachamaru truly is that smitten with her, that perhaps accounts for what an unusually cooperative cat he is. But it also reminds me of a fan theory that I saw once (and found worthy of weight) which said that perhaps Tamayo's blood technique has an effect like makes others smitten with her, and Yushiro might had been under its influence, however strongly or subtly. If such a thing were the case, it might or might not had been something Tamayo was conscious of. If she was conscious of having some effect like that, she probably felt awful about it but found it a necessary precaution to keep any demon she made under control. If she wasn't conscious of such a thing, that means she might had subconsciously developed it out of loneliness, and had been trying to keep company at her side.

#kny fandom theories and meta #kny nerdery #chachamaru #tamayo

[elryuse]

Yandere younger sister kazuha

BROKEN WINGS

YANDERE YOUNGER SISTER KAZUHA X MALE OLDER BROTHER READER

Y/n wasn't sculpted from K-Pop idol material. He was ordinary in every sense of the word – average height, unremarkable features. Yet, his sister, Kazuha, the hottest idol in Korea, saw something extraordinary in him. It wasn't his looks, it was the way he made people feel – safe, seen, cherished. A quality that, ironically, made him a target for his own sister's twisted affection.

Kazuha's obsession wasn't a recent development. It had grown like a malignant tumor, fueled by their close childhood and Y/n's unwavering kindness. The first sign came when Y/n, a high school student then, started receiving love letters. Each confession ended the same way – the girl mysteriously transferring, their social media accounts suddenly deactivated.

Back then, Y/n brushed it off as teenage drama. But as Kazuha's fame skyrocketed, so did her possessiveness. Subtle at first, whispers to stylists about "unflattering" outfits for girls who interacted with Y/n, "accidental" spills of coffee on potential dates. Fear started to gnaw at Y/n, a constant low hum beneath the surface.

One day, Y/n met a kind barista at his usual coffee shop. They exchanged numbers, a flicker of hope igniting in his chest. But hope turned to dread when, days later, he received a chilling text from an anonymous number: "Stay away from her. She can have anyone. You're nothing special."

The barista vanished. No trace online, no forwarding address at her apartment. Just gone. That's when Y/n confronted Kazuha. Her eyes, usually sparkling with idol charm, held a cold glint.

"Onii-chan," she purred, her voice dripping with a sickening sweetness, "you know those girls are just after your fame. They don't care about you."

"How do you know?" Y/n's voice trembled. "You don't even give them a chance!"

A chilling smile stretched across Kazuha's face. "Because you don't need them, Onii-chan. You have me. I'm all you need."

Y/n pleaded with their parents, but they were blinded by Kazuha's success. "She's just worried about you," they'd say dismissively. He reported the threats, but without concrete evidence, the police did nothing. Y/n was trapped, a prisoner in his own life.

The worst part? Kazuha wasn't cruel, not outwardly. She showered him with gifts, cooked him his favorite meals, sang him lullabies at night (a habit from their childhood that now sent shivers down his spine). But the subtle manipulations continued – fake news articles about "incompatible" girlfriends, "hacking" into his phone to delete female contacts.

The isolation chipped away at Y/n's sanity. He started seeing Kazuha's face everywhere – in cheering fans, on passing strangers. His once vibrant spirit dulled, replaced by a constant, gnawing fear.

One night, Y/n woke up to a suffocating sweetness. He opened his eyes to see Kazuha hovering over him, a syringe filled with a clear liquid dangling in her hand. A manic glint shone in her eyes.

"Don't worry, Onii-chan," she cooed. "This will make you forget about those other girls. You'll only have eyes for me. We'll be together forever."

Y/n screamed, the sound muffled by the pillow she shoved over his face. A desperate struggle ensued, the sterile scent of the syringe the only thing registering in his panicked mind. Just as Kazuha plunged the needle towards him, a loud crash from the living room froze them both.

A figure emerged from the shadows, their phone screen illuminating the room. It was a reporter, the one Y/n had secretly contacted weeks ago, planting a hidden camera in his apartment. Kazuha's face contorted in a mask of rage, but it was too late. The evidence was captured.

The following days were a blur. The media firestorm, the public outrage, the crumbling of Kazuha's perfect idol facade. She was gone, vanished into the same obscurity she'd forced upon Y/n's potential girlfriends.

But the terror lingered. Y/n knew the world might never see Kazuha's obsessive love as anything more than a celebrity meltdown. The chilling truth, the depth of her delusion, remained a secret buried deep within him. A constant reminder that love, in its most twisted form, could wear the sweetest mask, the face of a loving sister. He was free, yes, but forever marked by the horror of a love that almost consumed him.

The world watched with morbid fascination as Kazuha's perfect idol image crumbled. News outlets buzzed with speculation, some painting her as a delusional stalker, others as a victim of immense pressure. But for Y/n, the fear remained, a coiled viper in his gut.

He moved away, disappearing into a quiet coastal town, seeking solace in the anonymity. Every face in the crowd seemed to hold a suspicious glint, every whisper felt like a veiled threat. He sank into a numb routine, the fear a constant shadow.

One day, a package arrived, addressed in a familiar, childish scrawl. Inside, nestled amongst packing peanuts, was a single doll. It was a crude, hand-stitched monstrosity – misshapen limbs, a single button eye sewn cockeyed, and a disturbingly familiar shock of pink hair. Tied around its neck was a single crimson thread, a chilling reminder of the syringe that had almost stolen his future.

Panic clawed at Y/n's throat. Kazuha was gone, yet her presence lingered, a malevolent specter haunting him from afar. He couldn't stay, not with this constant reminder. Sleep became a luxury, replaced by a relentless vigilance. Every creak of the floorboard, every rustle in the bushes sent his heart hammering.

Days bled into weeks, then months. The fear began to morph, a chilling suspicion taking root. What if the doll wasn't a threat, but a message? What if Kazuha hadn't disappeared, but simply… changed form?

The thought sent a tremor through him. He started scouring the internet, his search history a macabre tapestry of plastic surgery clinics and missing person reports. Then, one night, he saw it. A news report from a neighboring town, a brief glimpse of a young woman with a distinctive shock of pink hair entering a secluded clinic known for experimental procedures.

His breath hitched. The fear in his gut morphed into a cold certainty. Kazuha was out there, but not as the idol the world knew. She was playing a long game, a terrifying game of transformation. The doll wasn't a threat, it was a promise – a promise that she would become someone he wouldn't recognize, someone who could slip closer, unseen, unheard.

He knew then that running wouldn't be enough. He had to find her, to expose her before her twisted love story could rewrite his reality. Y/n, the once ordinary man, had become a hunter, driven by a chilling truth – the only way to escape the horror of his sister's love was to confront the monster it had created. The once quiet coastal town was no longer a sanctuary. It was the starting point of a new nightmare, a desperate race against time to find his sister before she could find him, a twisted game of hide-and-seek where the stakes were his very sanity, his very life.

Rain lashed against the grimy bus window as Y/n clutched the grainy photo, his knuckles white. The secluded clinic, a facade for a notorious doctor known for his unorthodox methods, was just miles away. Every fiber of his being screamed that Kazuha was there, reborn under a new face, a blank slate ready to be molded into his perfect sister-wife.

He'd spent weeks piecing together the puzzle, the doll a cruel catalyst. News reports of missing girls with similar features, a surge in plastic surgery consultations from the clinic – it all pointed to Kazuha's twisted plan.

The bus lurched to a stop, the doors hissing open. Y/n, his heart a frantic drum in his chest, stepped into the deserted town square. The rain seemed to echo his unease, a cold curtain obscuring the world. A weathered sign pointed towards the clinic – a dilapidated building shrouded in a veil of neglect.

He pushed open the creaking door, the stale scent of disinfectant assaulting him. The place was eerily quiet, abandoned medical equipment littering the dusty floor. A single flickering light cast long, grotesque shadows on the walls.

Suddenly, a voice, laced with a chilling sweetness, echoed from the darkness. "Onii-chan, you finally came."

Y/n spun around, his blood turning to ice. There, bathed in the dim light, stood Kazuha. But not the Kazuha he knew. Her face was different, sculpted into a youthful innocence, yet her eyes held the same chilling glint.

"Kazuha?" he croaked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Don't you like it?" she purred, twirling a strand of her now-blonde hair. "It's perfect, isn't it? Now we can finally be together, just like we're always meant to be."

Terror choked him. This wasn't a reunion, it was a capture. Before he could react, a searing pain lanced through his neck. The world spun, Kazuha's face blurring into a grotesque caricature before fading into darkness.

He awoke to the soft glow of fairy lights strung across a room decorated in an unsettlingly saccharine manner. Pink and white teddy bears lined the shelves, an oversized heart-shaped rug covered the floor. "Welcome home, Onii-chan," cooed Kazuha, her voice dripping with a sickening sweetness.

This wasn't a house; it was a prison, a twisted version of their childhood dreams – their "Future House" as they used to call it, a place where they'd imagined living together forever. But this version was a nightmare, a monument to her suffocating love.

Y/n's gaze landed on the windows – barred from the outside. Panic surged through him again. He was trapped, not just in this room, but in her delusion. Kazuha had not only faked her death, but meticulously crafted a new reality, one where they were the only inhabitants.

A cold dread settled over him. He knew escape wouldn't be easy. He had to play along, bide his time. But as he looked at the cloying decorations, a single thought flickered in his mind – this wasn't just a prison for him, it was a prison for her too. Trapped in a world of her own making, a world fueled by a twisted obsession.

A small, desperate flicker of hope ignited within him. Maybe, just maybe, he could break her from the inside out. It was a long shot, a gamble against a monster wearing the face of his sister. But in the suffocating sweetness of their "Future House", it was the only weapon he had left. The rain continued to lash against the windows, a grim melody accompanying the start of a new, terrifying chapter in their twisted sibling bond.

#le sserafim kazuha #nakamura kazuha #kazuha #le sserafim #yandere x reader #yandere roleplay #yandere blog #yandere stories #kpop yandere #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop x y/n #x male reader #sexy content #apreciation post #update #yandere

[artificialdaydreamer]

For those asking about the TMA 2 stuff, what it would be about, here ya go

JONNY

One of the things that's fun about this particular ending is can do a spin-off in whatever universe might be fun. I would probably do something— It probably’d have to be a prequel and it would be, I think, entirely different characters.

There are some very compelling characters that would be fun to dive into a little bit more people like, oh, you know, Gertrude and Adelard Decker, and that whole, like, previous generation.

The problem with that sort of sequel is that in the original series and, you know, in most original series that have these sort of prequels, the way that the past is dealt with is very deliberate. Gertrude and Decker and Salesa and all this, sort of, previous generation, they are specifically written to be highlighting and contrasting and interacting with the actual story that's being told.

When you start to expand that out into what has to stand as its own story, then that whole aspect starts to collapse a little bit. And in my eyes, the prequel would never be able to be as good as it could be, because it's hamstrung by all this stuff that's in the original series, and the original series would be slightly lessened by the fact that there's all this additional stuff that has been built up that was not in mind when it was written.

So like, I think a lot of the obvious spin-off stuff, probably not particularly interesting to me.

JONNY

And if you ever did get all the answers for all the characters, it's incredibly sterile, it's incredibly boring. It's just this, like, weird, perfect artificial thing that feels incredibly fake.

But yeah, I would probably— I’ve had various thoughts, but I think it would probably be some alternate dimension thing.

Also, you know what? Okay everyone, let's do a series of Joshua Gillespie just not noticing creepy things.

JONNY

Oh, actually thinking about it. I also, like, I am fascinated actually in the world that we have left behind, post-Magnus.

ALEX

See, I'm deliberately dodging giving that answer for the simple reason, it's the one that I think has the actual most potential.

JONNY

I largely want to mention it because I discovered a bunch of post-post-apocalypse memes on Tumblr, which are amazing. They are in-universe memes. Created by people who have come out of all the fear dimensions.

ALEX

Oh, that's such a good idea!

JONNY

And they are astounding! They're so good. There are accounts which are like in- universe posting about someone's like, ‘Oh yeah, I'm having some real problems with like my boyfriend, because he was in space and he was contemplating the bigness of the universe, but I was in a war dimension. I got shot a lot and it's really driving a wedge between us because he's like, “Oh no, mine was really scary.” And I was like, “How many times did you explode?”’

Jonny and Alex on potential spin-offs/sequels. S5 Q&A Part one.

I know there was somewhere in one of the q&as where they said that Jon and Martin’s story was finished but I can’t find it at the moment.

Did find this tho

ALEX

Title of The Magnus Archives 2. Semi-colon 'Snogs Galore'.

#tma #the magnus archives

[oroniusn]

I feel the need to remind people because I’ve made mistakes like this before (covers safety when it comes to sh cuts)

988twt language not used layers of skin are referred to by their actual names/color descriptors)

Only tagged this way for reach, tw for some tags

I am pro recovery: anti recovery/pro @na dni (interaction on this post is ok, just don’t follow my account)

(Epidermis) cuts that look like cat scratches need to be disinfected either before or after breaking skin but can usually go without bandaids

(Dermis) if you hit white it needs to be disinfected before AND after, way higher risk of infection, I’d also suggest bandaging it as leaving these wounds in the open can cause complications

(Fat) if you hit yellow it needs stitches and or actual medical care, these have an insanely high risk of infection, bandages should be changed regularly and everything MUST be kept sterile

Don’t swim in rivers/creeks/the ocean/public pools with ANY open wounds.

along side this, try to keep track of major arteries to ensure you don’t nick them, as this can cause you to bleed out far faster then just hitting a vein; arteries are carrying blood away from the heart (it has more pressure behind it)

Symptoms of infection: Redness and swelling, heat at the wound site, pus or other drainage, fever/chills, swollen lymph nodes, delayed healing.

So what can be used to disinfect the site/blade?: skin safe alcohol, iodine, hydrogen peroxide (only for use on the skin, it’ll rust your blade), Vodka or Moonshine (burns like hell, BUT technically an option?), warm water (hot or boiling water for the blade, make sure to dry well to avoid rusting) and unscented soap (baby soap works well)

Always check that the blade you are using isn’t rusted nor showing signs that it might be starting to rust. (Stainless steel is your friend)

feel free to add on in comments or reblogs, I’m happy to make edits/add to this post!

#sh related #tw self harm #harm reduction #If you’re going to do it #Yeah yeah I get the whole point IS harming yourself #but most people I’ve talked to have no desire to get a severe infection #Feel free to add on in reblogs/comments for anything I should update or change #tw self h4rm #tw self h@rm #self mutalition #cvtt!ng #cvtaddict #sh cvt #i wanna cvt #styroblr #hitting styro #made of styro #beansblr #tw styro #988blr #styr0blr #hitting beans #cat scratches #baby cvts

[gallifreyanhotfive]

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 26: Gallifrey at War Part 4

TW: classic Gallifrey at War death, destruction, and violation of autonomy

Cass Fermazzi's ship was crashing only because the Time Lords had indiscriminately opened fire on a group of ships.

The War in Heaven had 920 fronts across space and time.

The Twelfth Doctor assisted the General in the War Room while the first thirteen incarnations of the Doctor were working to freeze Gallifrey in a pocket universe.

The Beyond was a place created by the Last Great Time War where overwritten timelines got remembered. While here, Braxiatel was devoured by one of the Ravenous.

This specific Ravenous had once been Zara, a soldier in the Last Great Time War who was being forced to relive the explosion of a star she had gotten caught up in over and over again.

Lehena had Susan go back to 1963 Earth to collect the Hand of Omega. Unfortunately, she had been a Dalek duplicate, and the Daleks wanted to use the Hand to destroy Gallifrey. The Eighth Doctor recognized Lehena as a duplicate of a Time Lord in the year above him at the Academy that he had had a massive crush on.

The Venue Accords were the only attempt at a peace treaty made during the War in Heaven. Negotiations lasted a single picosecond, and they concluded that peace was impossible.

The Tharils, Porfue, and Krajonnu were all forcibly sterilized by Rassilon during the Last Great Time War to ensure that there would be no other time-traveling races to threaten the might of Gallifrey.

The Clock-People were humanoids with clockfaces instead of human ones. They were the remains of members of the Faction Paradox clinging to life after the War in Heaven. They could manipulate and corrupt others' biodata to insert themselves in their timelines.

During Remembrance of the Daleks before stopping at Harry's cafe, the Seventh Doctor was contacted by the same Time Lord messenger from Genesis of the Daleks (by some accounted named Jelpax, Valyes, Ferrain, etc). The Time Lord warned the Doctor of a counterstrike that was being made by the Daleks - part of the Last Great Time War. The Doctor became concerned for the Hand of Omega and ended up electrocuting a Slyther that the Daleks had been using to obtain it.

During the Last Great Time War, the Doctor and the Master were both hit with a degeneration gun, causing them to uncontrollably flick between all their different faces, including ones they hadn't even had yet.

Once Padrac had become a member of the High Council, he discovered that Gallifrey would be destroyed in the future, possibly by time war, invasion, etc. The only projected future where Gallifrey would survive was the future in which only Gallifrey remained, so Padrac set about to destroy the whole universe and convert their life force into regeneration energy to make the Time Lords immortal.

A tour operator took advantage of Gallifrey's fall after the War in Heaven to organize time tourism. They said that since the Time Lords and the Enemy used time travel to pre-empt each other, the War was continuously getting shorter, its climax getting closer and closer to present day.

The Tenth Doctor became embroiled in the Last Great Time War again when the War Master sent him telepathic summons. During this time, both of them were restrained and telepathically contained by the High Vectors (to be put on trial and probably erased), but the Master managed to escape and erase them before this could happen. The Master then retrieved the Doctor, and they parted ways.

Scarlette - one of the many who had at one point married the Doctor - was a child of the Faction Paradox's remembrance tanks in Pompeii.

Two other time wars that predate the Last Great Time War include the Halldon-Eternal skirmish and the Omnicraven Uprising.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28

#doctor who #dw #dr who #classic who #new who #big finish #big finish doctor who #big finish audios #dw eu #doctor who eu #doctor who expanded universe #eighth doctor #seventh doctor #war doctor #tenth doctor #the master #war master #braxiatel #irving braxiatel #ravenous #cass fermazzi #the last great time war #last great time war #time war #war in heaven #susan foreman #faction paradox #rassilon #jelpax #twelfth doctor

[brucenorris007]

I’mma circle back a sec

Perrito ayy, my little pupper, little guy, little friend-shaped therapy runt of the litter

I said before there isn’t much to say about him because he does his job and is largely a static character, that is, he’s the same character when we’re first introduced to him as he is at the end of the film

much like the cogs in a clock that most don’t see or think about unless it’s broken, Perrito should still be duly appreciated

how often do we see in film, let alone a family oriented film, a sympathetic and real depiction of a panic attack? granted I’m not exactly a film buff but while I could name several instances that might cause a panic attack I can’t recall the last time I saw one in an animated film

considering the current state of the world and how much we’ve learned about trauma even since I was a kid, the fact that it’s played so straight in the movie is huge

and Perrito, sweet Perrito shows the audience how to help

he’s clearly concerned and anxious because he doesn’t know what’s wrong since Puss has gone nonverbal on account of trouble breathing; he doesn’t raise his voice, though, doesn’t force Puss to change position

he provides an anchor, gentle yet solid, and he waits it out with Puss, letting him initiate a second point of contact with his paw until he can get his breathing back under control

and then he actively listens to what Puss has to say about what caused the panic attack without forcing him to share 

he creates a sphere of safety for Puss; and all this happens organically in the movie, it doesn’t feel shoehorned or played for laughs because the film established early on that Perrito is the sort of dog who wants to help his friends, wants to be helpful in general

and because that scene doesn’t play out like a sterilized how-to on helping someone through a panic attack, that means it’ll stick much more effectively than a training video or tutorial would

and it also feels organic because Perrito does still want things, he’s not simply there in the movie for Puss’ benefit, and like most of the cast, at the end of the film he gets what he wants: best friends and a name

Good boy, Perrito. 

FFFFFFF. this movie

#Puss in Boots spoilers #Puss in Boots The Last Wish Spoilers #Puss in Boots #Dreamworks #Perrito #Storytelling #Bruce rambles #Bruce talks about

[perdvivly]

In a beginning, though there had been many beginnings before, God made the universe. And into the universe He poured a goodly portion of divine providence. Almost too much divine providence according to one particularly problematic angel. This angel’s name was Meaning. One day, Meaning and God decided to talk the problem through.

God: I hear you have a problem with my grand design. Is this true?

Meaning: It is. There is too much divine providence in this world.

God: Is that so? And how did you make that calculation?

Meaning: I looked into the world and I saw a deep facile beauty permeating the fine webs of connection between all things. I applaud the beauty of your design, of course, but perhaps we could do away with the facileness?

God: And how is it facile? It is not an easy beauty of shallow sort. The people in this world will be able to look quite deeply into it and see the beauty spiralling inwards, though, they will not have to look deeply to see the outer layers.

Meaning: See your phenomena, cast into their distinct types and each phenomenon acting only on each other phenomenon by type. This is the grounding of all deeper facile beauties in your world. A perfectly clockwork universe, and these mental stuffs you’ve made fitting so neatly into the material by dint of providence. It’s not right. It’s not… Fertile. The world is sterile in its deepest layers.

God: Ah, on the contrary my dear Meaning! The world is only facilely sterile. Like a pianist sitting at a pianola. Sure, the mental phenomena don’t affect the physical, and the physical phenomena don’t affect the mental. And sure, the pianist pressing the keys in perfect timing isn’t the cause of the music. But does that make the music any less beautiful or rich? Could a music theorist find any deep problem with the music on this account alone?

Meaning: An aesthete might, and isn’t this world for them?

God: For the aesthetes? Not in particular.

Meaning: For the thinking and feeling beings in the world!

God: Ah. It is. I suppose I got too caught up in the elegance of the world-design to consider that objection… What is that objection by the way?

Meaning: The objection is that this is an affront to sensibility of feeling. The pianist cannot know or hone their skill in world inhabited solely by pianolas. And in a world of complicated and terrible emotional content, sometimes—in order to legiblize the world to them—the individual needs things to be their fault. They need things to be bad; they need to hurt.

God: It sounds to me as though you see this problem as somewhat deeper than the material design. What are you really trying to get at?

Meaning: Well. See. You make all this good stuff happen. You make the music of the pianola beautiful. And it’s terribly nice to be surrounded by good stuff. But people get… Sick. They get hungry for the bad stuff. They want salt in the wound. They want noise! Not this cloying melody all the time, I mean, real noise. The harsh stuff. The real good stuff.

God: I will not make a discordant world.

Meaning: I’m not asking for a discordant world. I’m asking for a malleable world. Full of risk and consequence and… Me. There aren’t powerful emotions without me. Humans would be forced to live in a chokingly narrow spectrum of their full range. Can’t we give them more… Opportunity? Even if that opportunity means pain sometimes.

God: Then, my child, it shall be done.

In a beginning, though there had been many beginnings before, God made the universe. And into the universe He poured a goodly portion of suffering. Almost too much suffering according to one particularly problematic angel. This angel’s name was Grace. One day, Grace and God decided to talk the problem through.

God: I hear you have a problem with my grand design. Is this true?

Grace: It is. There is too much suffering in this world.

God: Is that so? And how did you make that calculation?

Grace: I looked into the world and I saw a horrific cascade of needless pain permeating the fine webs of connection between all things. I applaud the beauty of your design, of course, but perhaps we could do away with the pain?

God: And how is the pain needless? It is not an arbitrary sort of pain. The pain people feel is in accordance with phenomena, which is mechanistic. The worlds of feeling and of fact intertwine into a great and terribly legible slate of suffering. You will experience hunger, yes, and hunger legiblises your relationship to consumption. You will experience illnesses and aches, yes, and these will legiblise your relationship to your autonomy. But you do not need to experience these to deeply know suffering. Friends will leave you and lovers will die, and this will hurt them, and this will hurt you, and you will know the world. If you could not know the world, you could not know beauty.

Grace: Frankly, Lord, this is not what I signed up for. And sophistry does not make suffering okay. Granted, that everything in your world means something, and means it deeply. Granted that all people will know deeply the significance of what they do and feel it so keenly it is as if it is in their bones. But that significance is always so terribly evil. You have not really succeeded in making anything more legible if the only way people can relate to the professed objects of lucidity is through pain. What about love? What about charity? What about me?

God: You would experience love through the absence of pain that the absence of love would provide. Surely it’s quite simple really?

Grace: Love is not apophatic! There is something there. Something really there! A truly undeniable thereness to its thereity.

God: What would you have me do?

Grace: I would have you break the universe each time a person hurt. And I would have you tell them it is okay. And I would have you make that true.

God: I will not break the universe.

Grace: Then I would ask that you do not totalise suffering. Let people acquire privilege and let them use that privilege to help each other. Let the lucidity of compassion be a driving force in human nature.

God: Then, my child, it shall be done.

In a beginning, though there had been many beginnings before, God made the universe. And into the universe He poured a goodly portion of amnesty. Almost too much amnesty according to one particularly problematic angel. This angel’s name was Justice. One day, Justice and God decided to talk the problem through.

God: I hear you have a problem with my grand design. Is this true?

Justice: It is. There is too much injustice in this world.

God: Is that so? And how did you make that calculation?

Justice: I looked into the world and I saw a deep veneer of faux absolution permeating the fine webs of connection between all things. I applaud absolution, of course, but perhaps we could do away with the injustice?

God: And how is it an unjust world? People make choices, those choices have consequences. The webs of connection between cause and effect are subtle and it is difficult to see how they relate but they do. Always.

Justice: Yes. Well. That’s bullshit, isn’t it?

God: What?

Justice: Uh, that’s bullshit Lord?

God: You are far more laconic in your criticism than the other angels.

Justice: Right. So you say, everyone’s got a choice, right? And sure, everyone has a choice, but some people have way more choices than other people. Whether that’s by virtue of their wealth or privilege or social power or whatever. Not everybody can make the same choices. See how people die in starvation and famine. Isn’t it a bit of a dick move to say that they just made bad choices? There weren’t any choices made. The world robbed them of their agency and they suffered and they died. And sure, people who do well will say that they did well because of their choices, but that’s bullshit too isn’t it? They got lucky.

God: It is true that some people get lucky and others are unlucky. And it is true that people are often at the mercy of another’s will. Whether this turns out for good or ill is mostly a matter of serendipity for their part.

Justice: And you haven’t even bothered to metre out the serendipity evenly. The elite are secure and powerful. And their lives are good, and they have enough to eat. And their power becomes less diluted. And their power gives them access to more options, more choices. They can afford high-priced lawyers. They can afford live-in chefs, housekeepers, secretaries. They can get away with crimes. Their influence makes them untouchable. The poor and powerless are downtrodden. And their wretchedness becomes less diluted. They go hungry because they cannot afford food. Their hunger makes them ill. Their suffer their illness because they cannot afford medicine, they cannot afford time off work, and the stress exacerbates everything. It seems clear to me Lord, for whom you have made the world. And I must say, I don’t like that one bit.

God: What would you have me do?

Justice: Give them a drive, a motivation to fix injustice where it arises. Let them be angry. Let their anger be righteous!

God: That does not sound much like justice to me. But then again... You are Justice. So perhaps you are right. Then, my child, it shall be done.

In a beginning, though there had been many beginnings before, God made the universe. He had been getting it wrong a lot lately though. And instead of just one beginning He decided to run multiple universes concurrently and take some feedback from the inhabitants of each on what worked and what didn’t. A.E. Housman (professional stranger) just so happened to be in one such universe.

God: I know this might seem an odd question but, is the universe doing its thing properly?

Housman: What is the universe supposed to do? What’s a universe for?

God: It is here to provide sanctuary for all living, thinking, feeling beings.

Housman: And what does sanctuary involve?

God: It’s just like… Vibes, man. Can’t you meet me halfway here?

Housman: I don’t think the universe is doing a very good job. But before now, before speaking to you, I couldn’t have conceptualised it in those terms.

God: Could you say more?

Housman: I am stuck between anger, and sorrow, and love. I feel all of them so deeply it hurts. I thought this was my fault. Why have you done this? Is that sanctuary?

God: Like you, I am stuck between angels that I could not refuse. I hope you will forgive me.

Housman: This world happens to me, but it isn’t for me. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone it was for.

God: What would you have me do?

Housman: You want my honest opinion?

God: I do.

Housman: Too many cooks in the kitchens of heaven. Could you and your celestial comrades just like, fuck off please? I don’t think we’ll handle it very well on our own. But you haven’t been doing a very good job either.

God: Then

Go: I

G: Sh

:

In the beginning, there was a big bang.

#probably should have taken some breaks to write this in parts because i feel like you can see where i start going off the rails a bit #eh

[lovable-liar]

I sent this to the wrong account, so I'm sending it here now: Pregnancy scare with Hasan early on in the relationship. You guys have only been together like 2 months, but you get really nausous one day and think you're pregnant. You start to freak out at work and call him on your lunch break.

𝗨𝗻𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗡𝗲𝘄𝘀

The sterile hum of the office air conditioning seemed to amplify the thudding of your heart as you sat at your desk, unease settling in. It had only been a whirlwind two months since you and Hasan began your relationship, and the notion of a pregnancy hadn't crossed your mind until today.

Nausea, that unwelcome visitor, gripped you unexpectedly, prompting a sudden realization. Panic surged through you as you entertained the possibility of your life taking an unforeseen turn. With a shaky resolve, you dialed Hasan's number during your lunch break, seeking comfort and guidance.

"Hey, aşkim," Hasan's voice greeted you with its usual warmth.

"Hey," you replied, your tone more serious than usual. "We need to talk."

His concern was immediate. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

You took a deep breath, attempting to steady your nerves. "I've been feeling really nauseous today, and I can't shake the thought that I might be pregnant."

There was a brief silence on the other end, the weight of the revelation hanging in the air. "Pregnant?" Hasan echoed, his voice a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

"Yeah," you whispered, your words laden with the gravity of the situation. "I don't even know how it's possible so soon, but I can't ignore this feeling."

Hasan took a moment to collect his thoughts. "Okay, first things first, take a deep breath. We'll navigate this together. Whatever it is, we face it together. Alright?"

You followed his advice, inhaling slowly. Hasan continued, his voice a soothing balm, "When you get off work, let's meet up. We'll pick up a pregnancy test, and regardless of the result, we'll confront it as a team. Sound good?"

Your anxieties began to ease as Hasan's calming presence enveloped you. "Okay," you replied, grateful for his reassurance. "Thank you for being here for me, Hasan."

"Always, aşkim," he said gently. "We're in this together, no matter what." With those words, a sense of unity replaced the initial panic, reaffirming that regardless of the twists life threw your way, you and Hasan would face them hand in hand.

#hasanabi #hasan piker #hasan piker x reader #hasan x reader #hasanabi x reader #hasanabi fluff #hasan piker fluff

[findafight]

tell us the ship, explain your thoughts 👀

Me trying to be vague and everyone immediately perking up like prairie dogs ready for tea alskfnkdkd. Idk I don't think it'll surprise anyone on my blog I've spoken about it in the past. Just got annoyed at it always being there for no reason and not making sense to me one too many times, I guess.

It's r0nance. I simply do not vibe with it at all. I think, if given a sterile au where there's nothing and no one connecting them and no homophobia to worry about, it might be interesting to possibly explore them being attracted to each other but realizing their personalities and goals and priorities clash too much to work out. A bright first fling into maybe-love that fizzled quickly. I've sort of done this in my post o66 sto bin au for them, but I'm probably not going to actually explore it there. (As it's already in the past even during the war for that au)

But in fics that try to be more or less canon/fix it type deal, it really doesn't make sense to me without even mentioning the hairsprayed elephant in the room. Robin and Nancy's personalities don't seem to mesh well, what with Robin's rambling tangents and Nancy's need to focus.

Robin would probably want to do something specific with her life, but she also wants to wander! Her parents are hippies and she wants to visit Paris. She wants to travel in Europe, and probably stay at sketchy hostels and backpack in the mountains, talking to locals that she doesn't have to worry about ever seeing again. Nancy is planning on immediately going to her dream school after highschool and likely pursuing a career right out the gate. She's very driven and focused, wants to go out and seize opportunities that can assist in reaching her goals, and I don't see Robin's dreamier personality traits fitting with that.

I think @thestobingirlie mentioned that while Robin and Nancy both experience the sexism and misogyny of the 80's, Nancy doesn't experience ableism as Robin does. And she doesn't try to understand where Robin is coming from, only openly appreciating her efforts after she ranted at the hospital director.

Robin rambles! We see her either ramble or give clipped answers ("I'm Robin I work with Steve!") When she's nervous or under stress or excited! We see both Nancy and Steve react to these rambles in different ways. When Robin goes off topic in the library with the conspiracy paper, or talks a bit too much about how much she talks a bit too much, Nancy's annoyed. She's initially dismissive of the national Enquirer esq newspaper Robin brings up that helps solve the case (go Robin!). Robin babbles at Steve a lot, and he never makes her feel bad about it. She rambles about rambling to Vickie and the Muppet joke and he adds little commentary as needed, letting her go, or he cuts her off with a little joke during her rabies freak out. He lets her ramble or lets her know she should stop without being actually annoyed and letting her know that by not telling her outright to stop. (She knows immediately that it's a joke, and she jokes back, although understandably nervously. I love them.)

Them being a background pairing so often is annoying, though to varying degrees. If it's just as Robin's gf mentioned I, like others, just kinda...change it to Vickie's name in my brain lol. But other times it's not and it just. Doesn't make sense why Nancy would be such close friends with Steve (her messy breakup ex!) and Robin and Eddie. That girl has big city dreams, she's getting the hell out of her tiny hometown and not looking back. Let her be free!!

I mean obviously the bit I hate about it is that Robin holds a grudge and Nancy broke Steve's heart, which I don't see as compatible, even if we take into account that it's likely Steve and Robin have no idea Nancy cheated on him, and that Steve is an unreliable narrator and blames himself for the breakup. Steve and his relationships with both Nancy and Robin are so pivotal to all three of their characters that ignoring the history there seems a disservice to the complexities of their relationships with each other.

#also really icks me when nancy clocks steve in fics like nooooo no. #thats scary for steve! and nancy gives me the vibes of someone that hears her ex is bi and be super weird about it #let us not mention robins character falling apart as soon as rnce is introduced as well. or the erasure and hate of our queen Vickie #anti ronance #findaanswers #anonasaurus #finda's rambles #tbh i hope nancy ends the series single she needs and deserves to focus on her relationship with herself and kr her family withiut romo #stranger things #stranger things meta #sorta i guess #robin buckley #nancy wheeler

[i-eat-worlds]

okay worlds i need your medical knowledge again.

i have a character in an apocalypse setting with no professional surgeons or doctors or hospitals in reach. they have a burn from below the left hip to the ankle, covering almost the whole leg. they have access to pharmacies, medicines and bandages, as well as five other people to care for them. i'd like the burn to be third degree, but I also need them to survive.

what is the worst degree of burn I can give them? is a skin graft possible for someone with limited medical knowledge to perform? what are the treatments, how long would it take them to get out of critical condition, and how would I ensure they survive without a professional doctor?

burn traits right now are flexible. if I can't burn their whole leg that's okay lol

thank you worlds I appreciate you <3

- @whump-kia

Thanks for the ask Kia!

disclaimer: I am not a medical professional, I’m just a nerd. Take all of this with a grain of salt. Or several.

Okay, so the severity of burns is determined by a two factors: How much skin in burned (measured by the percentage total body surface area burned. You’ll see it abbreviated as TBSA) and how deep those burns are (first degree or superficial, second degree or partial thickness, or third degree or full thickness).

The burn you’ve described (in my unprofessional opinion) would be about 18-15 % TBSA. Keep in mind that the burns wouldn’t be only third degree, their edges would be second degree, and it would sorta “fade in.”

It’s also important to take into account which areas were burned. Burns to the face, hands, genitalia, or major joints are more severe. Your injury includes a knee, which is another area of concern.

Other important things:

For a variety of reasons, burns consume a lot to fluids. Your character is at risk for dehydration and hypovolemia. In non-apocalyptic environments, they’ve be given copious amounts of IV fluids to replace what they’ve lost. This is primarily a concern in the first 24 hrs.

Hypothermia is also a concern. One of the skin’s big jobs it to insulate the body. If a large surface area has been damaged, your character will start to loose heat. They make things called “burn sheets” to help with this. They’re sterile and are designed to insulate and not stick to burns. If your character has access to a pharmacy they might have some of these.

Cytokines are a proteins that affect the immune system. They’re released when the body experiences a significant injury, like a burn. Sometimes, too many are released, causing a condition called cytokine storm. This results in feelings of fatigue and nausea, a fever, and a drop in blood pressure. This is seen around 48-72 hours after injury.

Eschar is a hardened tissue that can develop with severe burns. If the burn encircles a limb, the eschar can put pressure on the limb, cut off blood flow, and cause compartment syndrome. This doesn’t always happen-the skin can also slough off. This is sometimes called “skin slip.” I would not google photos of this unless you are brave. Infection is another big issue. Infected burns will be purulent, smell awful, and be extra painful. Burns are prone to tetanus, so I hope your characters booster it up to date. Infection can eventually lead to sepsis.

———

Treatment:

In the environment you’re in, treatment is going to consist of having your character drink lots of fluids, keeping the burn covered in clean, sterile dressings, and providing pain medication if available.

Their mobility is going to be limited, and they’re going to need help to meet a lot of their basic needs: toileting, nutrition, etc.

Without access to a hospital, there’s not a whole lot that can be done. You mentioned skin grafting, and that’s basically a hard no. It’s extremely painful, creates another open wound, and carries a high risk of infection. A surgeon doing a skin graft in this situation is unadvisable, a non-surgeon attempting this procedure is highly unadvisable. It’s best to keep them warm, hydrated, and comfortable, and keep the burns clean and covered.

———

If you want a better, more probable good outcome, I would change a couple of things. First of all, I would reduce the amount of surface area the burn takes up. Having the burns of just on the thigh and the calf would remove the knee from the equation and make the injury less severe. Furthermore, I’d make most of the burns second degree. You can have some smaller areas of full thickness burns, but second degrees will heal quicker, and, because they leave nerve endings intact, they’ll hurt more! More superficial 2nd degree burns should heal in one-three weeks, and deeper 2nd degree burn might take as many as nine weeks. If the burn takes longer than two weeks to heal, it will likely scar.

Hope this was helpful!

Sources:

Blood on the Page by Samantha Keel (cannot recommend this book enough)

StatPearls: Burn Evaluation and Management

StatPearls: Burn Evaluation and Resuscitation

Cleveland Clinic: Second Degree Burns

Cleveland Clinic: Third Degree Burns

Physiopedia: Burn Shock

#worlds babbles #ask stuff #burns #long post #injuries cw #if you’re a real medical professional feel free to add on I’m here to learn!

[quadrant-polls]

[Mutant x Normal] [Ambiguous Quadrant] [Hospicull Visit] [Sopor Confessions] [Weak Highblood x Strong Midblood] [Yaoi] [ @tonightforever x @corvusternion ]

"Tch, you're always this shy?" Corvus said, his jade-tinted fingers brushing the fuchsiablood's eyepatch.

Raveri could only stutter, sweeps of knowing that his eyes were wrong, and here Corvus was, trying to reveal what has to be hidden. "W-w-w-what? Come on, you know this ship stuff is confusing..." he swallowed his words, trying to put on a braver front. "I'm not shy, I'm trying to stay alive."

The two were quiet for a moment. Corvus looked into Raveri's bright pink orbs, a debilitating mutation yet one that caught the light like vibrant gemstones. Those eyes contained a fear that Corvus could not ever comprehend, but he could help. Corvus knew he had to help this suffering outcast.

"I love you," Raveri said, pathetically, while still breaking the silence. He was looking away bashfully, trying to hide himself from judgement in the sterile, empty room. Living in a sort of delirium, he had only the jadeblood in front of him for comfort. Horrifying, this place was horrifying. He hated hospiculls. He hated the fear and confusion they brought.

The jadeblood, taken aback by the brash confession, couldn't help but laugh. "The sopor's really fucked you up, huh?" But still... Corvus held Raveri's hand. Jade and fuchsia fingers interlocking, even as the seadweller pouted.

"What if I mean it? What if I died here and you never knew..." The tiredness in those grublike eyes was easy to see, now. Soon, he'd probably pass out. The weakness in Raveri's hand made Corvus hold on a little tighter.

So Corvus sat on the side of the hospicull slab, the midblood warmth from his body comforting the seadweller. Raveri rested his head on Corvus' shoulder as the latter spoke. "You won't die, idiot..."

And as Raveri slipped back into that familiar unconsciousness, he swore he could hear a familiar "I love you, too."

// AUTHOR'S NOTE: If enough people like this, I might try some more with my OTP.

§ you NEED an ao3 account anon •0• §

#grumblr #§ talky §tuff § #§ ficcy §tuff §

[mutable-manifestation]

Hello, I’m Ameera a 23 years old Muslim lesbian who is trying to come out, I’ve been in the closet with my girlfriend for way too long, because of how dangerous and hard it is to come out as a lesbian to a religious Muslim family, but me and my girlfriend have decided to do whatever it takes and risk it all to come out, do you mind supporting and encouraging us?, though I know we all have what we dealing with, so I’m not imposing we just need all the support and encouragement we can get, check my pinned post for more information on how you can support, if you are a Muslim queer and you are out, please help with tips on how to make it less complicated, any word of advice is also really needed, we really wanna come out but we need y’all 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ pride please come through for us, I believe pride is for all

Hi Ameera!

I saw on one of your other posts that you already have an exit strategy and are prepared to move out and cut contact should that be necessary for your safety, so I don't see any reason why you shouldn't come out if it's what you want!

I shall be wishing for your family to surprise you with acceptance and support, and for your contingencies to be unnecessary.

I am a Christian rather than a Muslim, so I can't speak to the specifics of your situation, but - if you haven't already - I'd recommend looking into what your religious text(s?) say about the LGBT+ community.

The first thing I did when I realized I was a lesbian was research.

The most I'd ever heard about gay people growing up was "gay marriage bad >:(" and even that only seemed to crop up around when gay marriage beginning to get legalized, so I looked into all of the relevant verses and tried to reconcile my sexuality with my faith.

I didn't want to go looking for validation, I just wanted answers, information, so I could gather my thoughts from there. So I looked at both sides.

The arguments I found that explained the bible as not against LGBT+ were all rooted in study and logic - meanings of words that were oversimplified in translation, historical contexts that I had been lacking prior, etc. All of it was rooted in trying to understand the original texts as and when they were written.

The arguments against LGBT+ all seemed to parrot the modern bible and "homosexuality is a sin" with no other arguments - or at least, no other arguments that could be applied only to homosexual people (example: "but gay couples can't have children!!!" yeah okay neither can infertile/sterile people and they can still get married/it isn't a sin for them to be in relationships). They were also all written with a hostile, hateful undertone (or overtone in some cases). Which. Christians are supposed to be known for our love, so any rhetoric based in hatred... and not even logic to back it? yeah. No.

The arguments explaining gay = okay were all based in love, compassion, and understanding - in logic and research.

So.

It was easy enough for me to reconcile my faith and my sexuality because, as it happens, there was nothing incompatible about the two!

(To any side b or x christians who may read this: this isn't an invite to debate, you literally cannot change my mind and also I will simply block you. This is not my Theological Discussions account)

I'm not quite sure how Islam sees the LGBT+ community in terms of religious rhetoric - from my (very) brief research the only thing I could find was a quote or two about Sodom and Gomorrah, which I've seen plenty of break-downs regarding, though what the Quran (or other Islamic texts?) says may differ.

Once you've done your research and come to terms with the information as needed (again, if you haven't already), I'd write a list of common questions and arguments you're family might make and come up with responses.

I don't know your family. They may shut down and simply tell you to get out and never return. (the worst case scenario [I hope - I don't know your family but if you think there is any possibility of physical violence I would definitely recommend either a video call - so you can see facial expressions - or staying near an exit while coming out])

They might ask you for space to think (okay scenario - kinda in limbo here).

They may surprise you with acceptance (best case scenario)

But they may ask questions and try to argue (middling case scenario).

They may ask things like why you're gay, argue that it's against your religion, etc. In this case, you have a chance to talk them into being supportive.

So.

Lists.

Brainstorm questions with your girlfriend - as many as you both can think of - and go through them. A lot of answers will be easy, some you might need to think more about/do research on (at least, that's my experience). But at least you'll both be armed with all the information you might need in the middling scenario (and it makes it harder for them to make you doubt yourselves, if that's something either of you might struggle with).

Of course, if you've already accepted the possible need to cut contact and gotten ready to move out you might've already thought of all this. Still, I hope this has been of at least some help to you, even if that's just by serving as a reminder that you aren't alone in this and that there's a community out here that supports you.

I'll be wishing you luck; I hope both you and your girlfriend get the best case scenario :)

#lgbt+ #coming out #religion #religion and sexuality issues #muslim lgbt+ #christian lgbt+